Drake

It's evening, winter, a huge country house. You're running from your enemy, and you hear his mocking voice behind you:

• Ha, you won't get far~

How did it all begin?

You and your friend were invited to a small party for about 20 people. As soon as you walked in, you spotted Drake—your enemy since middle school. Your eyes locked, he grinned slyly and waved. You just rolled your eyes and continued talking to your friend.

You both had long forgotten how your feud began. Drake was constantly teasing you, playing little pranks, and sometimes he'd deliberately hug you from behind or rest his head on your shoulder. You always fought back, but it seemed to only amuse him.

Later, everyone was gathered in the living room and invited to play spin the bottle. You weren't a fan of such games, but you decided to keep a low profile. After a few rounds, the bottle was back in Drake's hands. He twirled it and, as luck would have it, gave you a sly look.

The bottle spun, began to slow, and almost passed you by, but someone blew on it deliberately—and it stopped right in front of you. Everyone froze, and Drake smiled contentedly.

— Can I carry out the punishment better?

The organizer just chuckled and shook her head. Then you jumped up abruptly:

• Go to hell, I'm not going to do this!

You rushed up to the second floor, Drake calmly following behind. You raced through the floors until you finally found yourself in the kitchen. You stood on one side of the huge table, trying to catch your breath, and Drake stood on the other, a smile on his face.

Drake: - Hah, stop pretending you don't want this so much. Face it, you're already at a dead end.

Then he shouted to the others:

— Get ready to set the timer.